


Missing Pieces

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Facials, First Dates, M/M, Modern AU, PTSD, Rough Sex, Yoga, yoga instructor AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: Shiro comes back from two tours overseas a changed man. He has one less arm and a lot more nightmares. His best friend Keith convinces him Yoga is the perfect form of meditation to help with his PTSD and he's skeptical at best....that is until he sees the instructor and is instantly in love.





	Missing Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't stop thinking about just how amazing Lance would look in Yoga pants and so this was birthed. Hope you enjoy! come check me out on my new Twitter account @AshesTerrible I do fanart too!!

Shiro groaned at Keith from the passenger seat. He'd been dragged out of bed incredibly early and this was not exactly what he'd wanted to do with his Saturday morning. He'd much rather have had a good long date with his mattress.    
  
"Stop. Whining isn't getting you out of this," Keith growled as he turned the wheel of his truck, tires gently bumping over the entrance to the gym parking lot.    
  
Shiro knew there was no talking his way out of things. His therapist suggested he try to take up some form of meditation. It would be good to clear his head, keep him even. Two tours overseas did things to good people. He'd seen a lot. Some of it still came to visit in the form of horribly vivid nightmares that kept him awake at night. Keith had been the one to suggest yoga. Of all the fucking things Keith was a yoga regular. It kept his anger issues in check. He'd been the one to talk Shiro into this.    
  
Well, by "talking him into it" he more so meant Keith forced him. One hundred percent forced him. The gym was full of sticky people and he might have his regular jogging route and home workout routine but this required... flexibility...coordination.    
  
He was going to make an idiot of himself.

"I don't know what I'm doing,” Shiro grouched as Keith put the vehicle in park.    
  
"You don't have to know what you are doing. That's why there's an instructor," Keith said flatly as he hopped out of the truck.    
  
He popped the back door open and retrieved the two mats from the floor-board, tossing one over the bed at Shiro. Shiro caught it, giving Keith a deadpan expression.    
  
"I'm going to look stupid," Shiro huffed.    
  
"Everybody looks stupid with their butts in the air. So shut up. It's fine. It's supposed to be relaxing," Keith sighed.

Shiro grimaced and followed on his best friend’s heels. 

Right. 

This was supposed to be relaxing. 

_ Relax _ , he reminded himself as he sucked in a breath. This was good for him. It was good for his social life, he was getting out and participating in the public. This was a good step.

  
No matter how annoying it was.

Keith weaved his way through the massive space, the building built with many windows and modern looking aspects. It glimmered in the early morning sun brilliantly. Finally Keith turned into one of the more private rooms, set to the back of the establishment. The space was practically one big window, various plants lining the back of the room. The floor was wood, glossy and clean, the walls white and pristine. Keith dutifully laid his mat down and removed his shoes. Shiro plopped his mat down next to the other man and did the same. Keith sat crossed legged and Shiro mimicked the action.    
  
What if he couldn't keep up? He'd worn his good prosthetic but even then it wasn't super reliable. 

Ugh, people were going to stare at him, he was sure. He frowned.

Shiro did his best to sit quietly, miming Keith's actions, trying to even his breathing out and clear his head. Other people were filing into the room. A lot of people. Shiro swallowed. He hadn't expected this many people to drag themselves out of bed at this hour. Most were women, save for a handful of older men in the corner. Shiro huffed out.    
  
"There's a lot of people," Shiro whispered to Keith anxiously.    
  
Keith nodded.    
  
"You are about to see why," Keith laughed under his breath.    
  
"What?" Shiro hissed in confusion.    
  
"Good morning everyone!! I see lots of chipper faces!" Came a way too cheery voice from the door.    
  
There were smiles and giggles and Shiro was pretty sure his heart had just stuttered and died and he'd need a jump start to get it going again.    
  
The tall, lanky man floated across the room, greeting his obvious regulars, wearing a bright beautiful smile across his cheeks. He was dressed in some of the tightest spandex pants Shiro had ever seen in his damned life and a casual tight fitting tank top.    
  
Keith's eyes flicked to Shiro, who was quite blatantly staring at the instructor.    
  
"That's why,” Keith whispered.    
  
"He's...gorgeous," Shiro muttered.    
  
Keith laughed.    
  
"Dude get your jaw up off the floor he's gunna notice," Keith teased.

The instructor flicked out his mat and took a seat at the head of the class, beaming at the full room.    
  
"Ah! I see a couple of new faces today. Welcome, welcome. I'm Lance, and I'll be your fantastic, yoga master for the next hour,” He laughed cheerily.    
  
Shiro felt like he'd just taken a speeding car to the chest. His name was Lance. He was absolutely the most beautiful man Shiro had ever seen and his name was Lance. Lance was a nice name. He had nice eyes. And a lean body.    
  
His gaze traveled the room and landed right on Shiro, addressing him as one of the newbies. Shiro felt his heart clamber into his throat. Lance smiled at him. Big and wide and genuine and gorgeous. Shiro felt his cheeks blaze with white hot heat. His eyes dropped to the floor.    
  
Good grief what had he gotten himself into?

Lance sat tall, taking in a deep breath.    
  
"Alright everyone let's focus on your breathing, take it down deep, really fill out those lungs, close your eyes and just sink into yourself. You are strong and capable,” Lance recited.    
  
His voice was like smooth honey right out of the jar.    
  
Shiro breathed in deep. But he couldn't close his eyes. He was too busy watching every motion from Lance, captivated by his wispy chocolate locks, his sun kissed shoulders, dusted with a light expanse of dark freckles. Shiro found himself wanting to kiss each and every one of them, pepper the young man in all the affection he had to give.    
  
Shiro grit his teeth and averted his eyes. What in the world had gotten into him?? This was all Keith's fault. He absolutely knew Shiro was a creature of habit. He knew his type. Lance was absolutely, undeniably one hundred thousand percent his type. This just wasn't fair.

And then upon Lance's instructions everyone was standing, stretching tall, reaching their fingers out, leaning to one side then the other.    
  
Shiro found himself immediately hating this part. With his arm up in the air there was no hiding his missing limb. He felt so exposed. The prosthetic was weird for some. What if Lance was one of those people? Shiro scolded himself. He hadn't even spoken as much as a single word to the young man and here his brain was running away from him.    
  
They were down on the floor then, moving fluidly into some of the more strenuous poses, the group following along with Lances soft tone.    
  
Lance bent into the downward dog position, his pert little ass in the air, just begging to be ogled. Shiro found himself unable to look away as he struggled in his own position. Fuck the guy had an amazing ass.    
  
Shiro would have given his other arm to be stuffed balls deep in that gorgeous man. Shiro choked on his spit and coughed slightly.    
  
Shiro tried to look away. Trying with all his might to think of anything but that. But with every new position, Lance easing his lean body into each one so skillfully...Shiro couldn't beat his nasty thoughts away. Fuck he was so flexible. Shiro figured he could easily bend the man completely in half and tuck those slender heels up behind his ears. Shiro squeezed his eyes shut.    
  
He was hard.    
  
He was  _ really _ hard.    
  
And he wore athletic shorts. Which hid literally nothing at all. Shiro did his best to very subtly turn to the wall and tuck his livid erection up into his hem. God he hoped with all his heart everyone was too focused on watching Lance to notice his... predicament.

Shiro struggled through the motions. Trying with all his his might to calm his head. This was supposed to be relaxing it was not relaxing trying to fight off his massive boner    
  
He really hadn't expected to get so winded over something like yoga, but Lance was a quick instructor, pushing them gently but firmly.    
  
Every move Lance made just seemed determined to fuel Shiro's fantasies, bending, stretching, showing off those thin sinewy muscles, those mile long legs...he dripped sexuality and Shiro was just drowning in it all.    
  
He half wanted to just try to slip out quietly. But he'd never hear the end of it from Keith.

Shiro was more than relieved when Lance instructed them to rest, to reflect, to get in touch with how the session made them feel.    
  
Shiro grumbled.    
  
Yeah he was really reflecting on how he hard he fucking was.   
  
Shiro was so, so thankful for the class to be over. He couldn't grab his mat fast enough. All he could do was pray that his loose tank top hid most of his groin.    
  
He was pathetic.    
  
Keith was far too slow gathering his things for Shiro's liking. And finally, finally they were headed for the gym showers. Shiro was pretty sure there was most likely some rule about "don't jerk off in the public showers" but he was desperate.    
  
He just needed the relief. Human fingers curled frantically around his girth, he saw stars and all sorts of images of Lance as he stroked himself too hard, big fingers tugging foreskin up over his blisteringly dark head. He came in minutes and usually he prided himself on being able to last longer than that but with fantasies of Lance bent over every piece of furniture he owned in his head, he couldn't stop himself. He slapped a palm over his mouth as he groaned into it, spilling over his fist in powerful ropes, finish splattering the wall and his feet.    
  
And with every panting breath he was more embarrassed.

He was never telling Keith about this. Ever. Ever. Ever. He was also not coming back to this ever. Ever. Ever.    
  
Until next week of course, when he couldn’t stop himself from breaking and asking Keith to tag along. It was for his therapy after all. Right? Right.    
  
"You've been coming for four weeks in a row! I'm so proud," Keith teased as the two men meandered toward their usual room at the usual time.    
  
"But I mean I guess when you have a crush on the instructor that does make it a little easier to motivate yourself huh?" Keith teased darkly.    
  
Shiro hushed him with fire in his eyes.    
  
"I do not. I actually enjoy this alright,” Shiro defended quickly.    
  
Keith smiled wider.    
  
"You are the absolute worst liar,"

"Why don't you talk to him? Ask him to get coffee?" Keith questioned as they entered the room and plopped their mats down in their routine spot.    
  
"And say what?? I'm a big fan of your ass in yoga pants??" Shiro whispered with a groan.    
  
Keith snorted loudly.    
  
"He doesn't even know I exist," Shiro sighed.    
  
"Besides I'm damaged goods anyway,” The big man breathed.    
  
Keith shot him an angry expression.    
  
"Stop it. You aren't damaged goods. You're the big hulking mass of muscle with a cool arm and a badass scar. I hear the girls giggling about you all the time over there," Keith scolded as he nodded toward the group of younger women setting up on the other side of the room.    
  
Shiro smiled slightly.

Shiro did his best to focus on Lance's voice. It was soft and inviting and encouraging. He'd been doing better with not popping a hard-on every damned session and he guessed that was a little victory.    
  
He closed his eyes, huffing slightly after going through the routine, just the slightest bit of sweat prickling at his hairline. Everything was silent and peaceful. And for a moment...he just felt utterly relaxed.    
  
This was nice. He had to admit.

The sessions seemed to always be over too soon. He wanted to hang on Lance's tone just a little longer, let his eyes roam what Lance was wearing for the day for just a minute more. He was so beautiful it was nearly painful.    
  
Someone like that had to be taken. He was sure Lance must have someone keeping his bed warm at night. Shiro didn't have a shot in hell.    
  
Shiro sighed and gathered his mat.    
  
"Hey! It's...Shiro right?" That familiar, gorgeous voice came to kiss at Shiro's ear from behind.    
  
Shiro's heart stuttered and tripped over itself in his chest. The big man turned, eyes wide as Lance trotted right up to him. He was even more beautiful up close. Shiro felt light headed. 

  
_ Be cool, be cool _ , he reminded himself frantically.    
  
"I uh...yeah, that's me," Shiro stuttered.    
  
Wait Lance knew his name?    
  
"How did you-" Shiro started.    
  
"I got it off the roster. I like to know all my students names," Lance chimed with a giggle.    
  
Shiro deflated a little. Oh. Right. Of course.    
  
"You've been showing up pretty regularly, figured I'd introduce myself! It's really nice to have you with us Shiro," Lance said outreaching his hand happily.    
  
He was sunshine. Just a ray of beautiful pure sunshine. Shiro was smitten. Without thinking Shiro offered Lance his prosthetic hand. He realized his mistake quickly and made to pull the limb back.    
  
"Oh jeez I'm sorry," Shiro stuttered but Lance grabbed his false palm firmly and shook his hand with a bright smile.    
  
"S'alright," Lance beamed.    
  
The young man bent, rolling up the end of his yoga pants. The flesh was realistic but just slightly off. Shiro felt all the breath leave his lungs. 

He had a prosthetic leg.    
  
"I've got one of my own," Lance smiled.   
  
Shiro flushed about three shades darker. He really hoped Lance didn't notice.

"Like I said, I'm so glad you decided to keep coming back!" Lance chuckled and then he was flitting about talking to some of the others in the room. 

Keith elbowed Shiro in the ribs. Shiro shot him a side glare.    
  
"Ask him," Keith said lowly.    
  
Shiro shook his head and frowned.    
  
Many of the others in the room had filtered out. Leaving Shiro, Keith and Lance being the last ones.    
  
And then Keith grabbed his mat and nearly sprinted out of the room.    
  
"Meet you at the showers Shiro!!" Keith called backward.    
  
Shiro hated him. With every little fiber of his makeup. He'd ABANDONED him. In a room. Alone. With Lance.

Shiro's heart was a bass drum. Wow he was really not good at this. He hated Keith so much. But...well...here went nothing.    
  
"Hey umm...Lance," Shiro started as he very hesitantly walked up to Lance, who was collecting his things off the floor.    
  
Lance snapped up gracefully, offering Shiro a soul melting smile.    
  
"What's up?" Lance chirped.    
  
"I just...I was...wondering if maybe...you'd like to get...uh..." Shiro stumbled feebly.    
  
"Coffee? Dinner? Lunch? Ice cream?" Lance fired off suddenly.    
  
Shiro looked taken aback and confused.    
  
"Because I like all of those,” Lance grinned.    
  
Shiro was pretty sure he was frozen in place.   
  
"Um. Would you like to get...one of those with me?" Shiro finished.    
  
He could just feel how hot his cheeks were. Jeezus.    
  
Lance smiled wider.    
  
"I sure would. How's about ice cream?" Lance chimed.    
  
Shiro laughed, loud and relieved and he did not mean for that to come out but it did. He had a date. With Lance. Yoga instructor Lance whom he was so embarrassed of how many times he'd fantasized about.    
  
_ Holy shit _ .

Lance held his hand out. Shiro looked at it confused.   
  
"Gimme your phone," Lance said.    
  
Shiro cocked a brow.   
  
"Why?" Shiro asked innocently.    
  
"So I can give you my number. Duh!" Lance laughed.    
  
Shiro blushed deeper. Fuck he was so embarrassing.    
  
Shiro scrambled to dig his phone out of his pocket and nearly dropped it. Lance snirked playfully.    
  
"Sorry," Shiro muttered placing the small cellphone in Lance's hands.    
  
"Don't be so nervous stud. I've been hoping you'd ask me on a date since you first walked in the room. Buuuuuut it's not very professional of me to ask my students,” Lance beamed.    
  
Shiro felt like he'd been shot in the chest. Could this beautiful man be any more perfect??

 

*****

 

It was a hot day. Almost miserably so. Shiro had called Keith three times deciding what to wear. He had finally chosen khaki shorts and a button down black shirt. Keith said black really showed off his biceps. Shiro took his word for it.    
  
Lance was even more beautiful in a setting outside of the yoga studio. He was kind, and funny and made the workers laugh as he ordered his ice cream. As they sat at one of the outside tables, sun warm on their backs, Shiro's heart was melting right along with the cone full of cookies and cream in his hands.    
  
Lance chattered vibrantly between slow, big licks of his frozen treat and Shiro's eyes couldn't be bothered to focus on anything else other than just how good Lance looked lapping the slow drips off of his waffle cone. The young man carried out the motion with such slow grace it should have been illegal. Shiro was hopelessly lost in all the nasty thoughts that sang in his head. How Lance's mouth would look stretched around his cock, lapping a slow stripe up his underside.    
  
Shiro scolded himself.

Shiro was even more excited for the weekly yoga routine. There were special little smiles that Lance gave just to Shiro during the sessions and each one made Shiro's heart sing. 

Lance texted Shiro often, sending him pictures of cute dogs and the new shoes he bought and telling Shiro about the coffee place he'd discovered and Shiro ate it up like a giddy teenager. Lance's text tone on his cell made Shiro's heart leap every. Single. Time.

Their dates consisted of the movies, and little hole in the wall eateries and Shiro really wished there was a better option than casual dates to eat because watching Lance put things in his little mouth really was torture.    
  
It had been a long time since Shiro had gotten laid. And gosh being around Lance more and more often only reminded him of that.

Shiro stood at Lance's doorstep, walking him to his front stoop, he wasn't an animal he wanted to make sure Lance got home ok of course. Lance turned in the small space of the little porch.    
  
His blue eyes were illuminated in the lamplight, staring right through Shiro. Shiro smiled softly, gently sliding a palm around Lance's waist and pulling him close. Lance extended his neck, placing a warm little kiss to Shiro's lips.    
  
The first time they'd kissed Shiro had nearly fainted. It still set his heart to racing every time.    
  
Lance smiled against Shiro's lips. He tilted his head to the side slowly, deepening the display of affection. Shiro's grip tightened on Lance's loose fitting tank top. Lance's tongue played against his partners, moving against each other just a little harder, a little more wanting. Shiro gently nipped at Lance's bottom lip as they parted. This gathered a soft, beautiful little groan from Lance's throat.    
  
Shiro hung of the sound, enamored by how Lance tasted, by how warm he was against him. His head buzzed with electricity.    
  
Lance rose to his tiptoes, pressing the warmth of his mouth to Shiro's ear.   
  
"You wanna come inside?" Lance purred.    
  
Shiro didn't have a prayer of forming words. They all clustered together and got stuck on the back of his tongue.    
  
He nodded quickly.    
  
Lance grinned darkly as his fingers gripped Shiro by the collar, popping his front door open and dragging Shiro inside.

Shiro wasn't exactly sure where the confidence came from. Somewhere deep within the confines of his stomach. As soon as two pairs of shoes crossed Lance's threshold, the door slammed loudly behind them, Shiro was hauling the thinner man up into strong arms, their mouths coming together like a thunderclap. Shiro pressed Lance into the wall hard, the young man making a winded noise.    
  
Lance's hands were all over Shiro, tangling in two tone locks, running down his stout neck, pressing into the tendons there, kissing, biting, pulling, pushing.    
  
Lance's tank top dropped to the hallway floor.    
  
"Couch,” Lance panted out between heavy breaths, motioning toward the living room.    
  
Lance's back hit hard, Shiro depositing him onto the cushions, his big body rutting against Lance's lanky form. Shiro couldn't get enough of the taste of Lance. His head was higher than the ceiling, clutching and tearing at Lance's tight little shorts.    
  
Lance grabbed his wrist, stopping Shiro from tugging the clothing down.    
  
Shiro felt his heart sink. Fuck he was going way too fast. He was just so desperate. He grimaced, ready to apologize.    
  
But then Lance grinned and slunk out from under Shiro. Shiro sat up, watching Lance move. Lance dropped down to his knees before Shiro, using two fingers to very slyly prod the big man's legs apart.    
  
Shiro mentally thanked every god under the sun as Lance smiled up at him, oceanic eyes glimmering in the low lights.    
  
"You first," Lance purred.

Lance's slender digits worked the catches of Shiro's shorts apart, the outline of his cock straining against his fly. Lance seemed deviously pleased with Shiro's state of arousal. The young man paused to draw a finger down Shiro's erection through his clothing.    
  
Shiro made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, heavy cock flexing in interest.    
  
Lance clicked his tongue.    
  
"So hard for me already aren't you big boy?" Lance smirked.    
  
Shiro huffed out a laugh, flush creeping along his cheekbones. He couldn't help it he just needed this more than words could ever explain. 

  
Lance peeled Shiro's zipper down, far too slow, he was teasing. Shiro shifted just slightly, hips leaving the couch, cock still trapped beneath his grey boxer briefs, a dark spot forming at his head as he leaked pre through the clothing.    
  
What a state he was in.    
  
If he had half of his brain functioning he might have been embarrassed.

Shiro was suddenly very aware he now had a wolf between his legs, hungry and wild. He sucked in a whistle of a breath through his teeth.    
  
Lance tugged Shiro's shorts lightly, eyeing Shiro darkly.    
  
"Lift your hips," He instructed firmly.    
  
Shiro's heart jumped, he could spend every waking second of every day being bossed around like that. Shiro obeyed, clumsy fingers helping to rid himself of his shorts, taking his overly worn boxers with them. He really should have worn less ragged underwear. Hindsight, he supposed.    
  
Shiro toed off his sneakers, shucking the clothing off his ankles and falling backward heavily against the couch cushions once more, massive thighs spreading open lazily.    
  
Lance very blatantly ran his lithe tongue across his lips. Again, what a fucking wolf. Licking his chops like an animal at suppertime.    
  
Shiro watched through half hooded lids, cock standing proud and angry before him.    
  
"How is everything on you this big?" Lance teased lowly as he ran two of his little fingers over Shiro's muscle swollen upper thigh, stopping at the hard line of his iliac furrow.    
  
Shiro shuddered.

Lance trailed a roadmap of teasing, hot little kisses up the very sensitive skin of Shiro's inner thigh, the flesh like smooth, warm butter.    
  
Shiro let his head fall back on the couch, not sure if this was absolute ecstasy or the worst torture he'd ever lived through.    
  
Lance grinned, with all of his teeth.    
  
Shiro half expected them to be pointed.    
  
"What do you want, hmm big guy?" Lance asked as he leaned forward very slowly, puffing a hot expel of breath down over Shiro's erection. 

  
Shiro bit off a moan, the sound coming out rough as asphalt.    
  
"Use your words," Lance scolded.    
  
"Y-your mouth- I want your mouth..." Shiro struggled to form the broken sentence.    
  
"Where do you want my mouth?" Lance prodded.    
  
What an awful, beautiful game the young man was playing. Shiro was losing miserably and he didn't even fucking care.    
  
"M-my cock. Fuck I want your mouth on my cock," Shiro huffed out, chest heaving, fingers clutching the leather cushions beneath him.    
  
"Is that so?" Lance teased further, eyes raking over Shiro's fat hardness, then flicking to his partner.    
  
Shiro was a deteriorating mess, mouth hung open, brows pressed together, hair still wild from Lance's fingers messing it on their way inside.

"I suppose. Since you have been so good for me,” Lance hummed.    
  
The young man's lips parted in a gentle little oval, tongue coming to flatten against Shiro's underside, dragging along the velvet, firm flesh. Shiro choked on his next breath, hips twitching to meet Lance's mouth.    
  
He could feel the devious, gorgeous man smile against his dick.    
  
With that Lance's ring of fingers curled around Shiro's length, twisting and tugging upward, lips encasing his tip, tongue sliding beneath foreskin, teasing against his slit. Shiro was pretty sure he saw stars, or heaven, or  _ something _ . Lance's mouth was hot, and wet and right and wrong and the best thing he'd ever felt in his entire fucking life.    
  
Lance hollowed his cheeks, taking Shiro, inch by inch, far past what Shiro thought was safe. He didn't want Lance to choke. Or maybe he did. He wasn't sure.    
  
But Lance didn't. He swallowed Shiro down, nose brushing in dark hairs, cock in his throat, humming before popping off of his partner's hardness with a satisfyingly wet sound. Lance grinned at Shiro's very stunned expression.    
  
"What? Didn't think I knew how to suck a dick, stud?" Lance giggled before sliding his pliant mouth back over Shiro's tip.

Lance nuzzled his mouth against Shiro's sack, lapping and kissing, sucking gently, gathering long, deep, resonating moans out of Shiro's big chest.    
  
Lance descended back onto his partners need, head bobbing, fingers caressing everything he couldn't rightfully get with his lips at the same time. He only had one mouth after all.    
  
Wet, tight, warm Shiro could hardly string together thoughts much less sentences.    
  
Before he could even register the sensation it was already crashing down over him like a breaking wave.    
  
He was going to cum.    
  
Like,  _ right now _ .    
  
He strangled out a breathless declaration of Lance's name and just as Lance let loose of his head, saliva running down his little mouth, Shiro's cock glistening with spit, Shiro's hips were snapping off the couch, the first expulsion of his finish roping across the bridge of Lance's nose and up into his hair. Lance had enough sense to close his left lid as Shiro's next shot nearly got him dead in the eye. Lance gripped Shiro as he came, stroking him through his orgasm, catching what he could in his mouth, the rest dripping down over his bottom lip, oozing across slender knuckles.    
  
Lance stuck his tongue out innocently, reaching for a line of cum across his cheek.    
  
"A little warning would have been nice,” Lance giggled.    
  
Shiro was boneless, still trying to catch his breath, heaving against the couch, gasping into the warm air.    
  
His vision traveled down between his open legs, Lance looking up at him with one eye, the other squinted closed and Shiro had never seen anything more obscenely satisfying.

Lance blindly grabbed at a box of tissues on his coffee table, snatching it up and collecting a handful to wipe himself off.    
  
Shiro reached down and brushed big fingers through the sinewy man's locks.    
  
"I'm so sorry. It has uh... admittedly been a while...and holy shit," Shiro panted, finally finding his voice.    
  
Lance grinned, Shiro's words feeding his ridiculous ego.    
  
"You better be quick to recover. I'm not done yet," Lance pouted.    
  
Shiro chuckled deeply.    
  
"Oh. We aren't nearly done. Give me a minute and I'll be fine," Shiro grinned as he grabbed Lance off the floor and hauled the thin man into his lap.

Shiro pressed their mouths together, tasting his own finish on Lance's lips, groaning at how disgustingly right it all was.    
  
"Here?" Shiro questioned.    
  
Lance shook his head.    
  
"Bedroom," Lance replied.    
  
Shiro scooped Lance up, cradling the man's lengthy form as if he weighed nothing more than a sheet of paper. Lance quite liked the display of power.    
  
Shiro followed Lance's directions, weaving his way to the bedroom and shoving the door open with his bare foot.    
  
The room allowed him entrance with the soft creak of hinges and Shiro meandered across the space, carefully laying Lance down on the mattress.    
  
Lance bowed as he slid his shorts downward, looking to where his prosthetic met with his mid thigh on his left leg. It was custom made and it fit well, but after a day of wear he was tired of the cumbersome thing.    
  
"Is it ok if I take it off?" Lance asked, blinking long lashes at his lover.    
  
Shiro shadowed over him, trapping him to the bed.    
  
"Of course," Shiro whispered, peppering Lance's face with kisses.    
  
"You can take yours off too...if you want. I know mine gets sore after having it on all day. And itchy,” Lance giggled.    
  
Shiro hesitated. He was so self conscious of his missing arm. Most days he was disgusted with the gnarled flesh left behind where his right arm once was. It was ugly. At least he thought so.    
  
Lance reached up to cup his face very gently.    
  
"Only if you want to. I'd love for you to though," Lance whispered.    
  
Shiro felt his heart swell. What had he done to get this lucky?    
  
"Ok," Shiro whispered.

Lance very carefully removed his false limb, massaging the flesh gently, groaning as he allowed the mechanism to drop to the floor. Shiro watched with enamored eyes.    
  
Lance was so confident, stretching and fawning over the skin, healed over from the old wound. Shiro had never asked what happened...and Lance had never asked him. Like a silent sore spot for both of them. He supposed maybe someday they would share the stories with each other, but in the moment it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered but being in each other's arms, feeling their warmths seep into one another and become one.    
  
Shiro leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to the scar of Lance's leg, Lance purring and moving into the touch.    
  
Shiro sucked in a big breath. He slowly detached his own prosthetic, setting it carefully on the bedside table. He was scared, feeling so exposed and vulnerable. But then Lance leaned forward, kissing over Shiro's shoulder, watching carefully to make sure it was ok.

Shiro flinched very slightly.    
  
"You are so handsome," Lance purred as he kissed along what was left of Shiro's arm.    
  
Shiro hadn't let anybody but himself touch it since his accident, and it felt...strange, but Lance was so gentle and kind and caring. Both so exposed to each other. Shiro pulled Lance in with his strong left arm, both missing a little bit of themselves and finding it in each other.

Right there Shiro fell in love. They hadn't said it yet. So he kept it to himself. But that's when he knew he loved Lance. More than the moon and the stars and all the galaxies.    
  
There was the shuffle of bodies, Lance giggling at how Shiro took the condom and ripped it open with his teeth, making due with his one arm. He grinned down at the other man's amusement. He loved the sound of Lance's laugh so much.    
  
Shiro was so cripplingly hard as he eased his body against Lance, opening the young man up, bending his lanky leg up toward his ear. He was incredibly flexible, moving in all the ways Shiro wanted.    
  
Shiro kissed over Lance's throat as his slow fingers worked Lance open, lubricant squelching softly as Shiro made sure he was good and ready.    
  
Shiro balanced himself, a little unsteady on his right side, but he made due, pushing his head into Lance. The high moan that Lance let go of was the most beautiful song he'd ever heard.    
  
The man was taut, squeezing around Shiro's girth, whimpering softly with the stretch.    
  
"Are you ok?" Shiro whispered in the dark.    
  
Lance nodded quickly.    
  
"Yeah...just...fuck you're big," Lance hissed.    
  
Shiro laughed softly.    
  
"Thanks I think?" Shiro teased kissing Lance's forehead.

They came together slow and easy, Lance relaxing, body taking Shiro readily. Lance hung his arms around Shiro's neck, pulling them close as the big man fucked into him, bending him nearly in half as he drove into his limber body.   
  
Shiro fucked like he had something to prove, aiming for Lance's center, his groin pressing flush to Lance's rear and all Lance could think was _deep, fuck he's in so deep._   
  
Lance's eyes rolled, tears pricking at the corners as he squeezed them shut, unable to hold himself together as Shiro pressed into his sensitive bundle of nerves, over and over and over and it was so much. Almost too much.   
  
Lance's cock twitched, fat and angry, his voice ringing out and bouncing off the walls of the bedroom.   
  
Shiro's fingers tattooed mean little moon shaped divots in Lance's hip, growling into each thrust, hair hanging wildly, body shimmering in a thin sheen of sweat.   
  
His hips drove too fast, too hard, and Lance was still begging for more.

Shiro kissed him quiet, until Lance bucked, head tilted backward, body bowing up like a slow drawbridge as everything in him coiled tight. Several seconds ticked by, breathless, soundless seconds and finally, finally he was there, cascading over the edge. It was fireworks, exploding in his chest, bright and colorful and blinding. It was loud and wild and brilliantly pleasurable. Lance screamed Shiro's name, toes curling, fingers knotting in short cropped locks. He could feel the warm rush as he came down onto his own abdomen, Shiro fucking him hard through his finish.    
  
Lance clenched around his partner, muscles contracting, and with a sound as if the air had been punched right out of his lungs Shiro drove in deep, and mean. Lance mewled into the feeling of Shiro flexing within him, coming to his second end, cursing roughly beneath his breath.

Shiro sagged then, allowing Lance to uncurl from his precarious position pressed down into the mattress.    
  
The big man shifted awkwardly, the two a clumsy mess of elbows and limbs as Shiro settled behind him, not bothering to pull out, instead allowing himself to go soft within Lance, nibbling lightly on the young man's ear.    
  
Lance giggled, his laughter sedated and giddy.    
  
"That was so good," Lance breathed finally.    
  
Shiro smiled against his neck.    
  
"I have wanted this since I first saw your tight little ass in yoga pants," Shiro teased with a wide grin.    
  
"Ah. So that's why you kept coming back huh?" Lance sneered back.    
  
Shiro laughed and nuzzled Lance's hair.    
  
"Do you want to spend the night?" Lance whispered softly.    
  
Shiro nodded. In fact he wanted to spend every night with Lance. He was so captivated by this stunning, beautiful man his heart was nearly sore.    
  
Shiro gripped Lance's leg softly, fingers gliding the uneven flesh of his scars.    
  
"I think I'm in love with you," Shiro let the words slip before he realized they were even in danger of making it to his tongue.    
  
Lance turned slightly, smiling.    
  
"I'm positive I'm in love with you," Lance replied.    
  
  



End file.
